


Black, White, and the Gray Wolf In Between

by rthstewart



Series: The Stone Gryphon [7]
Category: Chronicles of Narnia - All Media Types, Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: Earth, Gen, Golden Age (Narnia), Narnia Fic Exchange Treat, Spare Oom, Talking Animals, Treat, background F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-07
Updated: 2019-09-07
Packaged: 2020-10-11 22:49:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20553971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rthstewart/pseuds/rthstewart
Summary: Lucy has gone missing from school.  Her mother finds help from an unexpected source.Part of The Stone Gryphon series, following Apostolic Way.





	1. Help Unlooked For

**Author's Note:**

  * For [einahpets](https://archiveofourown.org/users/einahpets/gifts), [metonomia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/metonomia/gifts), [Syrena_of_the_lake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syrena_of_the_lake/gifts), [loveandrockmusic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveandrockmusic/gifts), [WingedFlight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WingedFlight/gifts).

> This story is part of a new book in the Stone Gryphon series, Heart and Crow Make The Peace. Chapters 16 and 17 of Apostolic Way may be read as Chapter 1 and 2 of Heart and Crow Make The Peace, which is intended to tell of Lucy and Edmund's experiences in the war and will conclude the war years of Stone Gryphon from 1942-1945. Black, White and the Gray Wolf In Between is, essentially, Chapter 3 of Heart and Crow Make the Peace, or Chapter 18 of Apostolic Way.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucy has disappeared from school. Helen finds help in locating her daughter from an unexpected source.

**Winter, 1943, London**

Warm, gentle hands covered her eyes. "Guess, Helen!"

It was a game she and Beatrice played every evening at supper. She would come home from a long day at work, Beatrice would have made dinner, and it was up to her to guess what it was.

"Butter on the bread," Helen tried.

"Bread, no butter."

"Real eggs!"

"Of course not."

"Roast"

Beatrice scoffed.

"Cadbury milk bar!"

"Why have chocolate when you can have roasted carrots?"

"Scotch!"

"We hid the Laphroaig at Christmas from your children and forgot where it is."

Beatrice removed her hands. "Surprise!"

The table was set for the two of them. With Spam. And beans. And tinned tomatoes.

"Looks delicious!"

"And the same as every other supper!"

As Beatrice's hand lingered on her shoulder, Helen kissed it lightly. "Thank you."

Beatrice took the seat next to her and Margaret banged the table with her spoon. "Mummy! Spam!"

Margaret was nearly three and she, at least, had not yet tired of it. She chattered constantly, was in to _everything,_ and it was a delight to have her about.

"Yes, darling, and milk. Can you ask Auntie Helen for some milk?

"Milk, pluhz, Anty Eln."

"Of course, Margaret."

Helen poured a little into Margaret's two-handed cup. "What do you say?"

"Thwank u."

She and Beatrice could not hold hands over supper. What they often did after, once Margaret was asleep in her crib, still made Helen blush, and very glad for the blackout shades.

"Any post today, Helen?

The mail was always the best part of the day and more interesting than the typing at work. "I had a letter from Edmund. He says his most frequent conversation is 'yes sir,' 'no sir,' and 'I shall remedy that shortcoming immediately, sir.' He is prodigiously excited to attend oral arguments at the United States Supreme Court involving students and something about the First Amendment and the Pledge of Allegiance. I have no idea what he means, but he assures me it is tremendously important."

"What an odd school project."

"It is."

Helen had let Beatrice assume Edmund had gone to America to study and live with his father. In fact, her 15-year old son was being passed off as an 18-year old Army private by a Colonel in British Intelligence at the Embassy in Washington.

"And Peter's transfer was approved. He will be in the Oxs & Bucks, flying in gliders, which sounds terrifying to me, but he is adamant."

Helen could say nothing to Beatrice, or anyone else, about Susan. She had consented for Susan to be removed from school and her daughter had been inserted into the Special Operations Executive. She knew women in the SOE were in high demand for placement as agents in France; radio operators typically lived less than a month in that posting. She didn't know where Susan was, had heard nothing in weeks, and was likely to hear nothing unless her daughter died.

She had spent months in lonely worry and fear trying to account for her children's remarkable maturity and skills. Before he left for America, Edmund had revealed that years in a place called Narnia had been responsible and that they were determined to use those competencies in defence of Britain.

His revelation was incomprehensible. Yet, what else could it be? She'd considered and dismissed every other possible explanation. If it was insanity, it was shared with her nephew, Eustace, his friend, Jill, and Professor Kirke and Miss Plummer. The lion who occasionally wandered into her dreams confirmed it. She'd wondered if the large, too-knowing marmalade cat that loitered in her yard sometimes was another incarnation of the same lion, and then decided that it was not her children who were barmy.

Perhaps Peter's insistence upon the Glider Corps was because he had flown on dragons in Narnia. Perhaps, in Narnia, Susan had been Mata Hari and Edmund was Sidney Reilly or, given his obsession with legal texts, Jeremy Bentham or Francis Bacon.

"_We're all mad here."_

They were just clearing the dishes when Margaret began chanting "Knock knock knock knock."

"Who would be at the door at this hour?" Helen asked.

Beatrice, though, had gone white as a sheet. Wordlessly she shook her head and motioned to the door, scooping Margaret up as the little girl continued to chant, "Knock knock!"

Helen immediately understood. Knocks at this hour portended catastrophe. Beatrice had received just such a knock after Dunkirk and, with it, the telegram that her husband had died there. Beatrice's brothers were in the RAF and Navy.

Helen grabbed a few coins from the till in the entry and opened the door.

Every Englishwoman's worst nightmare stood on the stoop – a man from the telegraph office. "Excuse, Ma'am," he said tipping his cap. "I have a telegram for the lady next door, Mrs. John Pevensie and…"

Helen grabbed it and tore it open.

Was the roaring in her ears blood? Terror? A Lion?

"It's from Lucy's school. She's disappeared."

* * *

Helen felt terribly leaving Beatrice with the dishes and a toddler but she wanted to be home in case Lucy found her way there.

_And why had the school waited two days to contact her?_

In her mind, she wrote out scathing replies and scanned the pages of the evening papers, looking for any reference to a dead girl. She dismissed immediately contacting anyone in the immediate family. John and Edmund were both in America, and only that damned cat would know where Susan and Peter were. Eustace was still in school; Harold and Alberta were worse than useless. She would send telegrams to Professor Kirke and Miss Plummer first thing in the morning, leave a note on the door, a key with Beatrice, and take the first train to Marlhurst-Brockstone. The school wouldn't bother but perhaps Lucy's chums or her Prefect, Alice, might know where she had gone; her daughter might have left a note or packed some belongings which would give a clue to her whereabouts.

Making a to-do list and drafting telegrams and letters didn't calm her but gave her the illusion of doing something.

Helen woke with a violent start. She had fallen asleep, slumped over the dining room table on top of her lists and correspondence, fully clothed, pen in her hand, and the light still on.

_What time was it…_

Helen blinked. Rubbed her eyes.

There was enormous gray dog, no, _wolf_ staring at the lamp. "How curious," she said. The voice was definitely female. "There is no flame or oil. I don't smell anything burning."

Helen pinched herself. It hurt. She pinched harder. It hurt more.

A wolf was still sitting in her dining room staring at a lamp.

"Am I dreaming?"

The wolf turned her head and spoke. _Spoke. _"I do not believe so, Helen."

"How do you know my name?"

"You are Lucy's mother?"

"Yes."

"We knew the name of the mother of the Four."

The _Four_. She could hear how the wolf capitalized it. The _Four_. My children.

"You're from Narnia."

"At one time, yes. I've been dead for a long time. I understand that were I to go there now, I would be a ghost. But since I am here instead, I'm not."

"I don't understand it at all."

"I admit I do not understand it very well, either." The wolf looked again about the house and her nostrils dilated as she inhaled. "Am I in England? Or in London?"

"You are, yes. London is a city in England. This is my home. How do you know about it?"

"In the story that Tumnus tells, our Kings and Queens came from here. There was a war and bombs were falling from the sky. You sent them from London to be safe in a country house and they came to Narnia through a wardrobe in a spare room."

That damned wardrobe in Professor Kirke's office. The one with the lion on it.

"Are there still bombs?" The wolf turned the word over as if uncertain of it.

"Not here, no. But the war is still going on elsewhere."

"I'm sorry. War is terrible. How long have you been fighting?"

"The Nazis invaded Poland in 1939, three and a half years ago."

A, there was no other word for it, quizzical expression crossed the wolf's face. "And when did our Kings and Queens return to you?"

"About a year and a half ago."

She could see the wolf thinking about this. _Thinking._

"So short a time here and so very long for me." The wolf walked into the drawing room and inspected the mantle and the family picture taken before John left. "This is curious. It's like a painting, but not."

"It's a photograph."

"It is so strange that they are young again. At least a thousand years have passed in Narnia since they left. She still remembers them."

"You knew my children, then? Peter, Susan, Edmund, Lucy? All of them? There?"

"Yes. I apologize for being rude. I should have introduced myself. I am Briony, Royal Guard to Queen Lucy the Valiant, Knight of the Order of the Lion, Lady of the Cordial, DaggerStrike, Protector of the Forgotten and the Remnant, and the Lion-Heart of Narnia."

"But…"

"Yes?"

Tears began running down her face, blurring the gray, furry, kind face. She was terrified and confused, overwhelmed "I don't understand."

"I am sorry, Helen." Briony's voice was so kind, it worsened her grief and terror; sobs bubbled up. Helen groped about blinded by her tears, and had nothing but her sleeve.

The wolf nosed about the drawing room and returned with a handkerchief in her mouth. She shoved it, a little damp, into Helen's hands and sidled up next to her. "You may stroke me, if you like. I don't mind. Lucy would do so and it helped her when she was upset."

"I don't understand what you said, Briony, any of it. You're dead. My little girl is here. And lost. I don't know what to do."

"Helen, it is true that I am dead to Narnia but I guarded your daughter, my Queen, for over 15 years. The Guard's Oath binds us both to death and beyond. And a little girl she may seem to you but, I assure you, Lucy is a woman, full grown, and once a Queen of Narnia, always a Queen. And I have come to help you find her."

* * *

It was utterly bewildering, completely strange, and all seemed perfectly natural once it began to unfold. Briony found a bottle of corked sherry on the trolley and brought it to the dining room table and then returned with a glass. "It smells of spirits. It will calm you so that we may talk."

She wept a little, blew her nose, and, even stroked Briony's thick, long coarse fur. From the way Briony spoke, petting her was something for which she had to grant permission and was, evidently, not normal with wolves. Talking wolves. Helen didn't pet her for very long.

_I am talking to a wolf._

_We're all mad here._

"Before we begin, Helen, might I have a little water?"

Once they were both in the kitchen together, Helen realized just how big Briony was, closer to the size of a horse than a dog. They could scarce turn around. Briony was fascinated by the faucet and the icebox, "So much more convenient!" and the hob, "You don't have to keep feeding it dead wood!".

She thought the water smelled peculiar when Helen filled a bowl and put it on the floor. "It does not taste clean."

"Forgive me, Briony, but as a guest in my home, can I offer you something to eat?"

_Would a wolf eat Spam? Sausages? Powdered eggs?_

The wolf wagged her tail, big swishes back and forth, that knocked dish towels right off the counter. "Thank you, but no. I ate very well yesterday and what I prefer is not in your icebox."

Helen poured herself too-much sherry and settled in the drawing room. Briony lay down on the floor. "Now, please tell me what you know about Lucy being lost, as you say."

She took a deep breath. Apart from the fact that she was unburdening herself to a talking wolf, who was also incredibly kind and ever so practical, Helen realized that Briony had known Lucy for longer than her own mother had. If she dwelt upon it, she would begin weeping again.

"I received a telegram, a message, this evening, from Lucy's school. She disappeared two days ago."

Briony growled. It was low, barely perceptible, and terrifying. "Well, your explanation for why she is missing begins there. Lucy hates school. Of course she would leave it at first opportunity."

Helen did not think she was up to explaining the privilege and importance of education to a wolf, or that little girls were not free to flounce out whenever they wished. "It is unlike her, though, to leave no word, to not tell me anything. And she is so young, and out, by herself, with nowhere to go, and no money." Her throat tightened and she had to dab her eyes again. _My poor little girl._

"Money? Why would Lucy need money?"

Of all the things that would flummox a wolf.

"We need money to buy things. To go anywhere, she would need money for transportation, for food, for a place to stay."

Briony looked thoughtful. "Yes, I can see how that would worry you. She never needed money in Narnia."

Every sentence brought some bizarre facet to explore. Edmund had been adamant that, with their mail monitored, Narnia should not be mentioned in correspondence at all. As Helen wasn't interested in seeing any of them carted off as mad, she had kept her thousands of questions to herself, waiting until she was able to see one of her children in person.

"You didn't have money in Narnia?"

"We did. Most of us didn't need it." Briony let out a little, weary sigh. "Banker Morgan took care of Narnia's money."

"Who is Banker Morgan?"

The wolf tilted her head. "You don't know?"

Helen shook her head and then wondered if the wolf would understand that. "No. I've heard some other names, but never that one."

"Banker Morgan of the House of Linch was the consort of King Edmund."

"Consort? You mean… wife?"

"Yes."

Helen felt the floor give out beneath her and the breath leave her chest. Why should she be surprised? She knew from the way Susan had managed Tebbitt that her daughter was not without experience with men. Edmund would never offer anything so personal to her, though he'd vaguely hinted about someone in his past.

"Did the others…"

"They all left loved ones behind, Helen. Lucy's own consort, Aidan, missed her very much."

Her little girl had already been married. Briony went on.

"Dalia died within weeks of the High King's departure."

Peter must have been the High King, which now explained a _great_ deal. "Dalia was Peter's consort?"

"No. His first Guard. A Cheetah."

Before Helen could react to a Cheetah dying of a broken heart over her eldest son, Briony continued, "And then there was my own mate…" Briony let out a deep sigh. "Well, Lambert recovered, but he longs to be reunited with his Gentle Queen."

_Susan._

She knew nothing of her children's grief at these partings. A sick feeling washed over her. If there were consorts, had they left children behind? Had her own grandchildren been dead for a millennia before she ever met them?

Briony gave her no further opportunity to pry into what was plainly deeply privately business that she really had no right to know.

"To the present problem, Helen, you said that you are surprised Lucy left no word but this does not surprise me at all. Have you never heard Lucy say that it is better to ask forgiveness than permission?"

Helen nearly choked on her sherry. "No! Granted, she is may not always be obedient but she is a very sweet girl and was never one to cause trouble."

"_**Obedient**_?" The wolf growled again. "The Lucy I know, who I knew for many years, is a force of nature. Valiant. Fearless. I tell you, Helen, that youth or fear of causing trouble never stopped Lucy from doing what she believes her duty is."

"Then she is a stranger to me, Briony." With a shaking hand, Helen raised the sherry to her lips and took an enormous swallow. Could she say that she knew any of them? "And I have no idea how to find her."

The wolf rose and placed her head on her knee. "If I may, I would like to tell you of something Queen Lucy did in the beginning of the second year of the Reign of the Four. I had only been her Guard a short time and she would have been younger than she appears now, and certainly was not yet the adult she is today."

"A story." At first, it seemed condescending and pointless. She had to find Lucy and needed concrete steps that a story could not provide. But …

It was also 2 o'clock in the morning and nothing could be done. Briony was offering far more than just a story – she was offering insight into the world her children had grown up in and returned from. Briony offered _understanding_. She managed to not sob her relief. "Yes, please, Briony. I should like very much to hear of my daughter when she was a girl."

Briony sat very straight and then began speaking in clear, sing-song chant. "Come now Gentle Beasts and Birds, come now Daughter of Eve, that you might hear a story from Narnia's Golden Age, of Queen Lucy the Valiant and her Guard, Briony Goodheart. To my Pups I told this tale, and they to their Pups, forward, from generation to generation. The Gentle Beasts tell the tale in cave, nest, and den, in wood, mountain, meadow, and pond, so that we might remember it. For though Dwarfs build, and Birds fly, and Fauns dance, Naiads flow, and Llamas get lost…"

"Llamas?" Helen asked, otherwise enchanted.

"A terrible sense of direction. Ask Queen Susan of it."

"… for though Llamas get lost and Dryads green, the Good Beasts of Narnia remember. So, mother of the Four, heed my words. Stop and listen with your sensitive and gentle heart so that you may also know of the black deeds in a dark past, the white, healing light that Lucy the Valiant Queen brought to the Forgotten Remnants, and how a Gray Wolf was caught between them. Harken to me now."

"It begins thus…"

* * *

Helen's affair with Beatrice is based upon the Little Kinsey report, a survey of the sexual histories of over 2,000 English men and women in 1948-1949. [The survey is part of the National Observation Archive at the University of Sussex](https://www.sussex.ac.uk/news/media-centre/press-releases/media/media505.html). The survey, released in 1949, was deemed so scandalous, [it was suppressed until 2005.](http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/magazine/4293978.stm) Among other things, it reported that one in four men admitted to having had sex with prostitutes, one in five women owned up to an extra-marital affair, while the same proportion of both sexes said they had had a homosexual experience. Those incidence were higher in 1948-1949 than were observed and reported in the English population in 2005. In short, and unsurprisingly, the War put enormous pressures on the personal and marital lives of a huge percentage of the English population. The testimonies in the survey are immensely sad in what they say about the shattered private lives of the men away at war for years and the women at home trying to cope under terrifying and terrible conditions. England became a country of widows -- not unlike Edmund and Lucy's own situation in being taken from their own loved ones and children. I am very interested in exploring these themes of loss, how you rebuild shattered lives, how you repair broken relationships after so long apart, and how (and whether) those who lost learn to love again. 


	2. A story of black deeds, white light, and the Gray Wolf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, mother of the Four, heed my words. Stop and listen with your sensitive and gentle heart so that you may also know of the black deeds in a dark past, the white, healing light that Lucy the Valiant Queen brought to the Forgotten Remnant, and how a Gray Wolf was caught between them.

Lucy ran so fast out of the breakfast room, Briony had to lope to keep up with her royal charge. Pelting down the Palace steps, the Queen only paused because she was uncertain in which direction to take her very understandable rage.

"Perhaps the meadow," Briony suggested. "Less likely to have nosy Crows about or gossiping Trees."

"Horace," Lucy agreed.

They ran together beyond the Cair Paravel walls, through the orchards, and into the pastures where the Herds grazed.

This early in the day, many of the Horses were, like Humans, just breaking their first fast. Lucy ran out into the middle of the field and only then did she finally stop. With a sob that was far more anger than sadness, she threw herself down into the grass.

As two Mice scampered up to convey their greetings, Briony took charge of the situation. Lucy was too upset for the pleasantries she usually enjoyed. "Friends, our Queen has important matters to see to and cannot visit at this moment." She was gentle, but firm. Knowing they would be disappointed, the best solution was to give them something else important to do. "Queen Lucy wishes to speak to Horace. If you've seen him about today, might you ask if he could join us? Alone."

"Queen's business it is," Rowdy announced with a smart salute. "Come on Bitsy, we've got a job to do!"

"Right oh, Royal Guard! We'll find him for you, Queen Lucy!"

The Mice bounded off across the fields, calling to their mates. Horace would come trotting over in no time.

"Thank you."

Briony plopped down next to Lucy.

"I hate this," Lucy sniffed, rubbing her face on the sleeve of her dress. Briony didn't think the absence of a handkerchief – such an odd Human thing – of any consequence. Even she could tell the dress was already too short in the arm and leg and in tatters from Lucy's vigorous daily schedule.

"I don't like it either, Lucy."

"I know why I don't. Why don't you, Briony?"

"The purpose of this Guard business was so that you would have protection to do the things you want to do and the things you must do. That was exactly what Aslan said. So why does the High King not trust this? And if he feels you are too defenseless, then why does he oppose you training in the Army?"

"If he's not going to let us go anywhere except to the Palace walls and back, you might as well just go back to the Army."

Lucy quickly put her hand out and touched her shoulder. "I didn't mean that I would want you to, you know that? It's just a waste for you to be my nanny and pushing me about in a pram."

Briony wasn't sure what some of that meant but she understood what Lucy meant. "I know, Lucy. I don't want that, either. Is there some reason that he does not trust me?"

She didn't like to think about it, ever, and it wasn't widely known, but perhaps the High King had learned about the Pack she had been born into and run from?

Lucy's hand landed on her ruff. "Oh, Briony, I don't think this is about you at all."

She hoped that was true.

There was a whiff of Horse on the breeze; Briony swiveled her ears and caught the sounds of hooves thumping on the ground. Another deep sniff confirmed it. "Horace comes."

Lucy jumped up to her feet – they were bare. Lucy's feet were always bare. "Over here, Horace!"

Horace was smallish, brown, and odd, for a Horse. He did not care about forming his own Band and bossing Mares around. He didn't really even care what other Horses thought of him, which was very peculiar for social Herd Beasts. Briony had known him since Aslan's camp; he'd been one of the first Horses to heed Aslan's call and had made the journey by himself from the North, across the River Shribble all the way to Beruna. He joined the Army, for a time, and was a good solider and fighter but wasn't terribly interested in following orders, either. Horace had opinions and wasn't shy about saying them.

Briony had thought Lucy and Horace would get on and they had.

"Good morning, Queen Lucy, Briony!"

Lucy ran over to him. "May I scratch that hard to reach place?"

"Please."

Lucy reach up and rubbed Horace's back, right on his withers. Horace stretched his neck. "My thanks. So what's made the hairs on both of you stand up?"

"Oh, Horace, it's awful. I told Peter that Briony and I were going to go see Mr. and Mrs. Beaver. It's been very so long. But he said I couldn't go. And then he said I couldn't drill with the Army, either, like he and Edmund are. I'm very angry and I don't know what to do."

"What did your brother and sister say?"

"The Queen Susan is away in Galma, Horace. King Edmund hadn't yet come down for breakfast but…"

Lucy finished her sentence. "On something like this, I think Susan would be even more of a worrywart than Peter and Edmund wouldn't bother arguing with Peter unless Susan was here to take the other side."

"Hmmm." Horace stomped his foot. "So what's the High King's reason? Safety, I should think?"

Briony growled. "I should not take it personally but I do feel this is a criticism of my competence to guard Lucy."

"If he's worried about your safety, wouldn't learning how to defend yourself be smart? You might not be ready to march with the Army, but you should be training." It was gratifying to hear Horace be as mystified as she herself was about this peculiar prohibition.

"Yes, Lucy I was wondering that as well. Why does he oppose it?"

Lucy threw up her hands and accidentally knocked Horace in the nose. "Sorry. It's because I'm a girl."

"What?" Briony knew Humans were peculiar about a good many things but this was especially odd.

Horace snorted. "And here I thought the High King was sensible. That makes no sense. You've got arms and legs, same as males do and no natural defence unless you're carrying a weapon. I suppose you're smaller than both the Kings, but you'll get bigger and sure won't get stronger unless you eat lots of grass and run around play fighting with others."

A typical Horse perspective, but not wrong, either.

"I don't see size as being relevant at all. Queen Susan is taller than King Edmund but she doesn't train with the Army, just practices with her bow," Briony said. "Humans have to eat, defend their homes and young, just like any other. Why wouldn't a female fight for those things?"

Lucy shook her head. "I don't know. It's just because."

"That's not a good reason." Horace swished his tail. It probably stung Lucy, but she didn't say anything. Lucy never carped or complained about hard work or the scrapes and bruises that always came with it.

Briony did not want to countermand an order of the High King but this disturbed her. If the General knew of it, she would issue a very stern correction. She couldn't imagine King Peter's Guard, Dalia, a Cheetah and female, supporting this either. And, she herself had some say in the matter as Queen Lucy's safety was her singular and exclusive charge.

_This is my responsibility and I am answerable to Lucy, not the High King._

"Lucy, Father Christmas gave you a dagger. That means you must learn to use it, at least for your own safety. As your Guard, I insist upon it."

"Oh, I'd best do what my Guard says for my own protection." Lucy spoke very solemnly and then giggled. "I can throw it some but I do need more practice, Briony."

"And instruction," Briony decided. "And you need to be stronger." She knew from observing Satyrs and Fauns in practice and battle that getting a thrown knife to do anything except give your opponent another weapon was hard.

"Eirene," Horace said. "She's got arms. Big ones. She could teach you bow and sword, too."

"Who is Eirene?"

"A Centauress in the Army," Briony said. "A very skilled swordsman and mage. Thank you, Horace, I think that is an excellent idea."

And if King Peter told a Centauress as big as a Gryphon that females couldn't fight, Eirene would probably ask him if he could lift her claymore over his head or draw her great crossbow. The only being stronger than Eirene in Cair Paravel was Cook and she was a Minotaur.

Lucy flicked a fly away from Horace before his tail could get it. "But what about going to see the Beavers? Training up will take time and I shouldn't have to wait that long to go see them."

"No, you shouldn't." Horace paused. "So why are you?"

"Because Peter said I couldn't."

"So?"

Briony pricked her ears and Lucy moved to the side so Horace could see her.

"What do you mean, Horace?"

"He's King, High King, even. But you're a Queen, too, Lucy. Why does he get to tell you what to do?"

"I…"

_Why indeed._

"I'm not saying you go around fighting him all the time or being disrespectful. But the High King should show you some respect, too."

Lucy nodded vigorously. "So, I should just go?"

Horace stomped a foot. "Didn't say that. And can't say that his being worried about your safety is unreasonable, either. That part of Narnia where the Beavers live has had some trouble ever since we drove the dumb game down from Ettinsmoor and the Western Wilds last year."

Briony knew of this herself. "Horace is right about that, Lucy. There's been fighting there. The Army has been pursuing the Witch's army and secret police in that area, and pushing her supporters out of Narnia since Beruna."

It was a little embarrassing, but best to own up to it. "I should have advised you better, my Queen. The road to the Beavers is safe but we should not be Foolish Fauns about this, either."

"I hate that story, Briony." Lucy smiled, though, when she said it.

"Might as well take Eirene with you. Always good to have someone with arms and she can start teaching you how to use yours." Horace stomped his hoof to make the point.

"An overflight as well." Briony decided to ask Trice. The Eagle was very fierce.

"Fast horse," Horace said. "One that won't lose their head or startle, and that could get you away while Eirene and Briony deal with whatever was foolish enough to try to attack."

"I don't like the idea of leaving them behind."

"You aren't," Briony told her. This was basic tactics. "You're the high value target. If you aren't there, we can concentrate on killing the enemy and not defending you."

"I suppose." Lucy was still frowning but seemed to accept it. "I don't think Stubbs is right for this. He's very good for riding lessons but he's not very fast, or especially smart. And I don't dare take Love without Susan's permission."

Everyone except Queen Susan called Love the Hell Bitch. She was a dumb mare but a terrific fighter; she'd be as likely to kill her rider as the enemy.

"I'll go," Horace said suddenly. "You can ride me."

"I couldn't possibly, Horace!"

Briony supposed this wasn't surprising. Horace simply did not care if others looked down on him for letting someone ride him.

"I want to."

Lucy patted his shoulder and again reached up to scratch his back. "I know better than arguing with you, Horace. Thank you very much."

He rubbed his nose along her front so hard Lucy fell over into the grass. As she began giggling, Briony called out as loudly as she could manage, "The Queen's business is finished. Any who wish to see her may approach now."

Rowdy and Bitsy came running back, congratulating themselves on locating Horace. A whole Troop of Field Mice followed, and then everyone else in the Pasture began to arrive. Their party with the Queen lasted until the sun went down.

* * *

After supper, the High King agreed so readily to Lucy's plan that Briony suspected an elaborate conspiracy. Throughout his apology to Lucy, Dalia kept hitting the High King with her tail. King Peter was also limping and sporting a big bruise on his face.

King Edmund was not injured and in very high spirits. "Make sure Peter tells you all about how well he did today skirmishing in the Training Yard against Haritza and Isoba."

Haritza was an Oak Dryad, and female. Isoba was a Tigress.

Lucy laughed a very long time. Briony tried to not wag her tail too much.

Five days later, all was ready. Lucy was wildly impatient but also listened to counsel that they should show themselves to be prepared and responsible if she wished this to go well and to be able to do it again. They memorised the map and Trice consulted with scouts who said the road to the Beavers' dam was clear. It would be a day's ride so Horace and Lucy discussed and tested her saddle – sturdy, tight enough to not slide off – and a strap around his neck for Lucy to hold on to, rather than a bridle and bit. Eirene chided Lucy for not maintaining her knife properly and so they spent some time with Cook and her whetstone.

Briony stayed the night before at the Palace in Lucy's rooms and they were up early. Cook wrapped some food in linen – hard cheese, dried meat, and bread from the smell of it – in case the Beavers were serving only bark biscuits for supper tonight and breakfast tomorrow morning. Lucy grabbed the packet with an airy "Thank you!" and bounced out. She was ready to follow but the High King waylaid her at the Palace's front doors.

"Keep her safe, Briony, please?"

Dalia never spoke much but Briony heard a low growl as she smacked the High King with her tail.

"Of course, High King. But Trice will keep a good watch. Even if something escapes her eyes and my nose, Horace could outrun anything in Narnia save your own Cheetah guard."

It was her tacit way of thanking Dalia for her support. "And Eirene and I would make quick work of anything else."

"Come on, Briony! Horace is waiting for us!"

"Aslan watch over you both."

"He does, High King. And he relies on me to watch over your sister."

King Edmund was giving Lucy a boost on to Horace's back. "Again, well-played, my sister."

"Thank you, Edmund." Lucy rose in her stirrups and settled in the saddle. "Horace gave me a piece of very good advice that I shall pass to you that will probably help us both."

"Which is?"

"It's better to ask for forgiveness than permission," Horace answered. He turned about to nose Lucy's foot. "And don't kick me. I know where we're going."

Trice was already aloft and beginning to mark their way, west and north. Eirene trotted up and Briony very much approved of what she saw and was grateful for this addition to their little band. Eirene was carrying a pouch for her own, considerable food. In a special harness the Dwarfs had designed for Centaurs, she had a scabbard for her short broadsword and her bow and quiver were strung over her shoulders and resting against her flank.

"Even the High King should be satisfied," Briony whispered to her.

"Only if I'd found a way to carry mace, cudgel, and pike," Eirene replied blandly.

"And your claymore."

"And quarterstaff."

"Don't forget the battle hammer."

"Crossbow _and_ longbow."

"Now, you're just showing off, Eirene."

"Point or rear guard?"

"I'll take point."

Horace whinnied and pawed the ground. "Heigh ho! Hold on tight!" He then broke into a very energetic trot.

* * *

They had been making good time and it had been the best sort of travel – uncomplicated. They all stopped for a water break. Trice flew down to report a clear path.

And they continued on.

The sun was high in the sky and the Western Wood was in sight when Briony felt something growing up ahead. She slowed to a careful walk and behind her Horace immediately pulled up; behind him, Eirene was notching an arrow into her quiver. Briony raised her head, smelling deeply. Something was upwind from them.

"What is it?" Lucy asked, to her credit, in a very low voice.

"Something," Horace said and Briony heard him blow out. "Grab on to that strap in case we need to leave in a hurry."

Briony saw Lucy grasp the strap firmly in both hands and sit up straighter in the saddle.

Trice came circling down and landed heavily in a spruce tree, showering them with needles.

"It wasn't there when I flew over but, when I saw you stop, I flew back and just spotted it, them, at the edge of the wood."

_Them._

"What?" Eirene asked sharply.

"A Wolf. She has Pups with her. Maybe three or four. Even from where I was, I could see she's in a bad way, Queen Lucy."

This didn't sound right at all. Why would a Wolf mother be here? "Injured?"

"She looked sick to me, Briony."

"Go aloft again, Trice, if you will," Eirene said. "Look all around us, full circle. See if there are any other Wolves that might be part of an ambush. Pay particular attention to the edge of the wood. It should be thin enough for you to see anything lying in wait."

Trice launched herself from the branch with so great a force the tree shook.

"It doesn't feel like an ambush," Horace said.

Briony trotted around them, inhaling deeply, listening closely. There was nothing but the vague feeling ahead. "I agree, Horace, it doesn't feel like an attack. I don't sense anything else other than what is right ahead of us."

"If there is a sick Narnian and her children, I need to take care of her," Lucy said.

Horace turned his nose around and nudged Queen Lucy's boot. "Not yet. Don't get out of that saddle or let go of that strap."

As they waited in tense silence, Briony could not shake the feeling that the scent was someone she knew.

Some she-Wolf in trouble?

But why here? Unless…

_Oh no._

Trice flapped back down. "There's some dumb deer resting in the wood, and mice, and rabbits. At the stream, north and east, I saw Talking Beasts – Badger and a Muskrat family." The Eagle landed again on the thick branch. "I spoke to the Wolf. She's very ill, Queen Lucy. Starving. One of the Pups is dead. And something else…"

She knew what Trice was going to say. "She asked for you, Briony, by name."

Of course she did. The hair rose on her back and her lip curled into a snarl. "We should leave, your Majesty. Now. We've got no business with this Wolf and her ilk. Send Trice back to the General and let the Army deal with her."

_Let them kill her._

"Briony, what's this about? This isn't like you."

"She was one of the Witch's," Eirene said. "That's what Briony means. Which Pack?"

Of course Eirene would know. The Centauress had been in the Army before there was one.

"The worst."

"Maugrim's?"

Horace snorted and Trice clicked her beak.

"Yes."

Eirene continued her too-intelligent and knowing questioning. "Do you know her name?"

"Armejy."

"I don't know her by reputation. She was never on our wanted list. So, she wasn't part of the Secret Police?"

It would be far easier, less complicated, to lie. They could kill her, or walk around her and leave the Narnian traitor to die for the vultures and worms to eat.

"As far as I know, she wasn't." Armejy had been too weak, a coward, but that hadn't stopped her and so many others from going to the Witch's schools, eating her food, and enjoying the privileges of being in Maugrim's Pack. And now she was paying for it and deserved whatever had befallen her.

The question she was dreading came from her own Queen, with a hint of command that she had to obey. "Why is Armejy asking for you?"

Briony wilted. "She's my sister."

Horace blew out again and stomped. Trice ruffled her feathers. Briony thought maybe Eirene would aim an arrow at her, but she did not. Still, she had surely lost a measure of trust she could never regain.

"Oh."

"I think we should leave," Horace said, taking a step forward. Lucy pulled back on the strap.

"No, Horace. I'm not going, not yet."

She rose in her stirrups and looked about but of course she couldn't see or smell what was just ahead.

"Trice, you see nothing?"

"Nothing that could harm you."

"Horace, Briony, Eirene, do any of you sense anything that could harm any of us?"

"No," Eirene and Horace replied at the same time. "But I'm not lowering my bow, either," Eirene added.

"Of course not. Briony?"

Lying now would only compound the wrongness here. The reach of her past now destroyed her future. All her work to prove herself was ruined. She'd run from her Pack and tried to hide from the awful truth. There was no running now.

"Given what Trice has described, I do not think Armejy could harm any of us, Queen Lucy."

"Very well. Trice, continue to patrol. Please look for rabbits, catch them, and bring them to me."

"Yes, your Majesty."

She was young but she was still their Queen and as horribly as she felt about the deception, Briony was proud of how well her Queen was managing. She could not fault anything.

Lucy kicked her feet out of the stirrups and jumped to the ground. "Eirene, please help me with the saddle bag. I can't quite reach it."

"Of course, your Majesty."

The little Queen looped the saddlebag over her arms. "Now, let's go see if we can help Armejy. Horace, stay alert. Eirene…"

She glanced at the heavily armed Centauress – Eirene could easily stomp a Wolf to death. "Use your judgment but please be sensible. We don't want to terrify the Pups who have done nothing wrong but be born and should not suffer for a parent's mistakes."

It was no mistake; it had been deliberate, knowing, and had gone on for years. Briony growled but got a sharp look from her Queen. "Briony, please lead the way and introduce me to your sister."

They walked ahead, through a small stand of dark trees, down a rise and up another. The Wolves were only a short distance ahead under a scraggly tree. Trice had not exaggerated. Armejy was more skeleton that Wolf, with scars and mange, and a rank smell. She staggered to her feet and her teats were hanging, limp and dry.

"Get behind me," Armejy growled and three Pups scrambled and cried, but did as they were told. They looked only a little better than their mother, and were maybe three months old, but small and stunted.

"Mummy!" a little girl cried, and backed away, behind her mother. The other two whimpered and cowered. A fourth didn't move. Dead.

"Imagine seeing you here, _princess_," Armejy snarled.

"Well, that is uncalled for," Lucy said.

"She's talking to me," Briony replied. "That's what they called me before I ran away."

"I don't care if you've got horses and weapons. You harm mine and I'll kill you all."

"Of course we are not going to hurt you. Briony said your name is Armejy? I'm Queen Lucy."

"I know who you are."

"Ware above," Trice called and a rabbit dropped at Lucy's feet.

"Thank you, Friend," Lucy called. "Please find another if you can."

The Pups scrambled forward. "Mummy! Meat!"

"Don't touch it!" she snapped, and the Pups shrank back, whining.

Lucy knelt on the ground. "I've got a dagger on my belt and I'm going to take it out and cut this up for your Pups. Or would you rather eat it first and then regurgitate it for them?"

"How do I know it's not poison?"

"Why would I do that?"

"Because you hate us. The ones you didn't kill, you forced out, took away our homes, and then stole all the game for yourselves. You're starving us. Even the Giants won't eat us anymore."

"I don't hate you. And you're surely sensitive enough to know that this isn't poison. It's a fresh kill."

Briony was embarrassed. She should have offered to eat the rabbit and then regurgitate it for the Pups. But she couldn't. She'd rather choke to death then help them.

As Lucy began cutting up the rabbit, with the smell of blood, the Pups scampered forward, heedless and reckless with hunger. She tossed a tiny morsel at the girl and the two boys growled and attacked their bigger sister. "None of that. One for each of you. There's plenty." Two more pieces followed.

She cut a larger piece, dripping, nutritious liver and flesh, and tossed it to Armejy. "Here, eat, but slowly, or you'll make yourself sick."

Another rabbit fell from the sky, almost hitting her. "Sorry, Queen Lucy!" Trice called.

"Thank you again, Friend. Please do another circle, make sure we're still alone, then tell Eirene where she can find one of those deer you saw."

Lucy looked over her shoulder and Briony tensed, fearing Armejy might pounce. Her sister, though, slowly lowered her head and began mouthing and licking the piece.

"Eirene, please bring down a deer if you can. Or any other larger game. Between us, I'm sure we can drag it here. I don't think they're strong enough to travel to a kill."'

Briony could see the Centauress weigh the situation and then shoulder her bow. "Horace, you'll keep watch with Briony?

His lips fluttered. "Yes. I'd like to get this saddle off, but let's wait a little longer."

The Pups bounded forward toward the bloody rabbit carcass, snapping and fighting. Briony growled at them and they shrank back again.

"It's alright. Here's more. Don't worry. You won't be hungry again."

"Don't make promises to my Pups you won't keep, human."

Lucy sliced the second rabbit open, neck to tail, stem to stern, and tossed half to Armejy. "I don't."

"Don't what?" her sister snapped.

"Make promises I won't keep. Now, once you all have eaten a little, you need my cordial."

Briony growled at the blasphemy and Horace snorted an objection, "Queen Lucy, you shouldn't be wasting…"

"Hush, both of you."

She wiped her bloody hands on the grass and dug into the saddlebag.

"You're a bold Pup," Lucy said to the larger female who was still chewing on a piece of meat. What's your name?"

"Velky. And that's Malicky and Tikras. Feb died last night. I'm glad we didn't eat him now."

"I'm glad too, Velky. Now, can you come a little closer. I want to give you something that will make those hurts on your nose and paws go away."

Velky's paws were raw. It was madness for Armejy to have brought them so far, likely several days travel from wherever they'd been holed up. Last year, the Army had scoured the Western Wood and killed the hags, ogres, Wolves and other remnants of the Witch's army still lurking there and driven the rest out of Narnia, all the way to the northern border with Ettinsmoor.

Velky looked at her mother but Armejy was still carefully chewing on her rabbit. Briony wondered if she had broken teeth or sores in her mouth. "Go. Can't get any worse."

"Open your mouth, Velky. It's just one drop."

The Pup did so and, as soon as Lucy put a drop in the Pup's mouth, Briony could see the cordial do its magic. Velky's eyes turned from murky to sharp blue, her nose healed, her paws turned properly leathery and her patchy fur thickened.

"Oh! Oh! Now I can take the meat from them!"

Lucy risked a bite, but she put her hand out and over Velky's head, a Wolf gesture of authority. "No, you won't do any such thing. If you are still hungry, I will get you more but I am going to treat your brothers first."

Armejy had been watching the whole thing and licked her muzzle. "Go. Do what the human says."

The three Pups were, moments later, yipping, chasing each other, and tearing running around with rabbit legs in their mouths. They were still very thin. They would be asleep very soon.

Lucy moved forward, on her knees, toward Armejy.

"If you harm her, I will kill you," Briony growled.

"Peace, Briony," Queen Lucy ordered. She proffered the precious cordial. "Your turn, Friend."

"Save your potion, human. I heard what my sister and that horse said. Don't waste it on the likes of me."

"Well, I could but you might get sick from eating all that meat, and you are closer to death than you realize. And then I take your Pups back with me to Cair Paravel…."

"Fine," she snapped.

Briony tensed and Horace moved forward, snorting and turning his head so he could see exactly what was happening.

Armejy though, only put her tongue out and Lucy placed a drop there.

Again, she could see the potion do its work and Armejy seemed to be coming back to herself; her eye brightened, strength was flowing in… _and then it would be too late._

"GET BACK," Briony barked, pouncing between them, shoving her body between her sister and her Queen.

Horace reared and pawed the air. "Touch the Queen and I stomp them to death!"

Armejy crumbled, howling, rolling on her back to bare her throat and belly.

A battle lust she'd not known since Beruna swept over her. _I could kill her. I should kill her. She's a traitor. She's no mother to bring Pups here. She's vermin._

Teeth bared, Briony coiled to spring and rip open that vulnerable belly, still swollen with worms and scarred by dried teats.

"Stop! Both of you!"

Lucy jumped to her feet, bloody dagger in her hand. "We Order you to stand down!"

"But.."

"That's enough Horace. Briony, back away. Armejy is no threat to me."

"You don't know her, your Majesty," Briony pleaded. "She's…"

"Frightened and starving and is under My protection."

The Pups ran back, ferocious and terrified, barking and yelling, and threw themselves on top Armejy, still cowering and prostrate on the ground

"Don't you hurt my mother!" Velky snapped, pouncing on Queen Lucy.

The Pup sank her teeth into Lucy's trousers. She wouldn't know it was clothing, not skin. Lucy just let her worry the fabric between her teeth. "I won't, Velky. I promise."

"Leave off, Velky," Armejy said, slowing rising to her feet and nosing the other two whimpering, snarling Pups and trying to comfort them.

Velky was still clamped on Lucy's trouser leg. Through clenched teeth, she growled, "Are you sure, Mummy?"

"If the Queen wanted to hurt us, we'd already have joined Feb."

Velky reluctantly released Queen Lucy and backed up towards her mother, still growling.

"You are brave to protect your mother, Velky, but you need to learn who is a friend and who is an enemy lest you hurt someone who is trying to help you. Armejy, what would you like to do about Feb? I know Wolves and Dogs usually prefer burning. Or, I can bury him for you."

When the body was burned, smoke would rise like howls, taking the dead to Aslan's Country.

Armejy curled herself around the Pups. They were all licking and nuzzling one another and the Pups were yawning. Velky was still eyeing Lucy with a low growl, interrupted by a stupendous yawn.

"Doesn't matter. He's gone now."

"Very well."

The Queen went to the Pup's tiny, wasted body, bent over, and reverently picked him up. "We'll be back shortly, Armejy. Please rest. Call if you need anything. Horace, Briony, to me."

They followed their Queen, silently, away from the clearing, toward a copse of trees and shrubs. At the edge, Queen Lucy called, "If there are any good Dryads about, could you please make a hole so that we may bury our little brother gone to Aslan?"

A breeze moved through the grove, independent of the wind about them. There were probably Birch trees within or some Evergreens. The soil rippled, like swells on water. It then parted, leaving a hollow in the ground. Queen Lucy lay the body in the grave, facing east, toward Aslan's Country. The ground again swelled and swallowed the Pup.

"Thank you, Friends."

Lucy wiped her nose on her sleeve and cleared her voice. It was the first time she'd done this alone. Briony stepped forward and stood next to her Queen, trying to give her the support she needed. She'd failed everything else so far; at least she could help Lucy see this through.

"Feb, I'm sorry I failed you. I'll take care of your Mother and sister and brothers and your family and friends. I promise you this will never happen again." Lucy sniffed. "I know there's more I'm supposed to say."

Horace began the Farewell litany. "We bid you farewell, Feb. Do not let our grief keep you from your journey home."

Briony picked up the next refrain. "Go your way to Aslan's Paws, to His Country, at the edge between this world and the next." She paused. "Lucy, do you know the rest?"

Lucy nodded. "Friends, who have gone before us, welcome our brother to the place we all must go in fellowship and joy. Farewell, Feb."

The Queen fell to her knees, openly weeping. Briony sidled closer but Lucy pushed her, gently, away.

"Not now, Briony. I should feel this. Please, you and Horace fall back. I need to talk to Aslan."

As they retreated, Briony caught the scent and then Horace blew out. Eirene had returned with a deer kill.

"If you don't need me, I'm going to have Eirene take my saddle off. We're going to be camping here for the night."

"Yes. Go."

Briony didn't feel ready to bring her shame and guilt to Aslan. Lucy was bad enough. Aslan was with Lucy now. She could sense that, even if she couldn't see him. There was always something in the air, a special, delicious aroma and a lightness in her heart.

A stronger, cooler breeze blew by that stirred the trees and Trees and that special feeling blew away with it. Lucy stood and walked towards her. The blood from the rabbits had dried on her hands and clothes and there was a smear across her face. Her Queen needed a wash in that stream Trice had seen.

"I'm sorry, Lucy."

Her Queen's hand rested on her shoulder and they walked together, side by side, for a moment, as if nothing had happened.

"For what? For not telling me that you ran from Maugrim and his Pack – the same Wolf that almost killed Susan, until my brother killed him? Or because you are still so hurt and angry at your sister and Pack for all their cruelty?"

"I should have told you."

Lucy shrugged. "Aslan wanted us together, Briony. He knew. I'm glad every day he insisted."

"Thank you."

"Try to not keep secrets from me again."

"I won't."

It didn't solve everything, but it helped. Briony knew she had to try harder to be the guard, the Wolf, that Lucy expected and needed her to be. This was still a sore trial.

Armejy and the Pups were sleeping, curled up together in a messy pile. They were all much too thin, an ailment even the Fire-flower potion could not cure. But they now, at least, were not dying. Velky was snoring and Tikras and Malicky's noses and paws were twitching. Armejy's eyes blinked open and, for a moment, she looked alarmed. Then, she saw Lucy and sighed. Her eyes again closed.

"Thank you for bringing down the deer, Eirene. They'll be hungry again when they wake. We may need to cut it up for them; I'm not sure any of them are strong enough to bite through hide. Horace, are you feeling better?"

The Horse was free of his saddle and, from the grass and bracken sticking to him, had obviously had a luxurious roll. For answer, he shook himself and the debris went flying.

Following Queen Lucy's lead, they withdrew a little distance from the sleeping Wolves. "I'll need to speak to Armejy when she wakes, but I need to hear more first. Eirene, Armejy blames us for her misery. Can you tell me why?"

Eirene flicked a fly away with her tail and stomped a foot. "It is two things, I believe, your Majesty. Separate actions but resulting in this. First, in the Long Winter, the dumb game up here moved into Ettin-controlled territory where the weather was milder. But Jadis's carnivores still needed to eat. She made a pact with the Giants. They supplied her with game and permitted Narnians to hunt in lands they controlled. One of the earliest acts you took as Monarchs in that first spring was to drive the dumb game back into Narnia."

"I remember. Horace mentioned it earlier, too. It was lean times."

"Scary, too," Horace said. "The Herds all worried the carnivores were going to eat us."

"We discussed it at the first council meeting I ever went to. And Peter made the mistake of mentioning school and how much Narnians hated the Witch's school."

The Queen pulled a face for she liked school no more than Narnians did. "So, after that, most of the game moved south. And what else?"

"At the same time, we pushed the remnants of Jadis's Army and her secret police out of Narnia, mostly back into Ettin-controlled lands," Briony answered. "We killed any who remained." She and Eirene had both fought in these actions.

"And no concern for whether the ones pushed out had food to eat?"

Put this way, it sounded very uncomfortable and cruel. Briony still thought Armejy and her ilk had brought it upon themselves but surely their situation was desperate.

"Not precisely, your Majesty," Eirene said into an awkward pause. "Meaning no disrespect of course, but the High King and Queen Susan said this was the policy where you were from, in Spare Oom, from someone named Churchill."

The Queen crossed her arms and frowned. "Churchill? Who is that? It sounds like something I've heard before."

"I do not know, your Majesty. I think a great war leader from the world you came from. They said that, according to Churchill, those who lived in our enemies' lands were not our concern. Jadis had been part Giant and had allied with the Ettins. As her remnant was now living in Ettinsmoor, the Giants could see to their needs who are, as Armejy has said, now more likely to eat them. Our priority was to feed loyal Narnians."

"Who were themselves nearly starving," Horace put in, sounding a little defensive.

"But not starving now." Lucy let out a deep breath and rubbed her arms. "Well, we made mistakes here. Terrible ones. Narnians should not be starving. And they are never going to be open to Aslan, or us, or anything good, if they are hungry and blaming us for it. Doing as we have, and continuing it, gives them nothing but hate."

Armejy was slowly walking to them in a submissive crouch. The Pups were still sleeping; Trice had taken up a sentry position above them in a tall fir tree. Her sister had probably overheard most of the conversation. The closer she came, the lower her posture, until her belly was on the ground.

"Queen Lucy." Just saying the words seemed to make Armejy choke.

Lucy turned to face her and, though Briony still wasn't easy about it, she saw what her Queen had. There was misery and anger here, but no threat. There had been no thank yous, either. Armejy was too bitter for gratitude. 

"Are you feeling better?"

"Yes. Still hungry though." She turned her nose toward the deer carcass.

"We'll see to that in a moment. Armejy, I want to help you. I don't want to see you and your Pups starve. I don't want to see anyone else starve, either. We should not have abandoned you like this. But to make this right, I need your help."

"What help would you take from me?" she growled.

"I need you to take me to where you came from. I need to find the Narnians beyond our border who are starving as you are. All of them. The Wolves, the Dryads, the Dwarfs, Hags, Ogres, and anyone else who is left."

"Why would I do that? Why would my family or anyone else want to see you?"

"Because I want to find everyone who we drove out and abandoned, and apologize. And then I am going to invite them all to come back, to Narnia. You may make your homes here, hunt and live here, and raise your families. I will make sure you have enough to eat. If any are too sick to travel, I will cure them. But I need you to take me to them."

"You'll let us come home?"

"If you swear to not harm another Narnian, I will."

"You'll do all this for me, for your enemies? For your Guard's enemies?" 

Even Briony was having difficulty believing it.

Lucy knelt before the Wolf. "You are not my enemy."

The moment seemed to last forever, marked only be the sounds of a breeze moving through Evergreens, a distant, running stream, occasional birdsong, and three Pups, growling and yelping in their sleep. 

Armejy bowed her head and bent a leg.

"I will take you there, Queen Lucy, and swear on my Pups that I will not harm you or another Narnian."

Just seeing her sister take that pose made Briony's fur rise, for it was what the Wolves had done for Jadis. But they had to start somewhere.

"I accept your oath, Armejy. In Aslan's name, I promise to protect you, and your Pups, and all others who are hungry and forgotten. You are mine, in this world and beyond, to the end of Narnia. "


	3. One story ends and another begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As a wise horse once said, it is better to ask for forgiveness than it is to ask for permission. And sometimes, Lucy needs neither.

"And here, Gentle Beasts, ends the story of Black, White, and the Gray Wolf in between. Queen Lucy the Valiant became the Protector of the Witch's Remnant, the Dispossessed, the Starving and the Forgotten. The Queen traveled to the distant places where they hid in fear, healed them, fed them, and, when they were strong, led them all back to Narnia to live, where they dwelt alone, but in peace. Their Protector knew that the seeds of loyalty and love could not grow from hate and deprivation. Though many dismissed her as foolish, the wisdom and foresight of the Valiant Queen proved sound for, as all Narnians know, where this story ends, the Tale of the Traitor Noll and the Treacherous Mole Spies begins."

Briony stopped speaking and blinked. "Goodness, I completely forgot where I was. It was as if I was telling the story to my own Pups or their children."

Helen let out deep breath, overwhelmed and amazed at her daughter and the great gift Briony had bestowed. Her sherry glass was empty. Could she find that hidden bottle of Laphroaig?

"Thank you, Briony. That must have been very difficult for you to face your sister again, in that way. I appreciate you telling me a story that must have some pain for you."

Was she assuming too much? Did a wolf feel the same way she would if she had confronted by a traitorous family member? Briony seemed more human than animal except that she plainly _was_ an animal.

"You are welcome. It _was_ very difficult at the time. They were very cruel and, even if they did not serve in Jadis's secret police, they did nothing to stop her and most supported her."

Helen decided that now was not the time to find out just who this terrible Jadis was. Edmund had mentioned only that they had gone to Narnia and been immediately drawn into a battle to wrest the country from a Witch and had prevailed. There were _years_ of details to learn and it was going to take time to unravel. And she might never know the full of it when it was so firmly in the past. Even at the time, she had understood some of Edmund's reticence to discuss it was that Narnia was behind him and an exciting adventure in America beckoned. As Susan and Peter had also demonstrated, they all believed their futures were here, not back in Narnia.

"Eventually, I did make peace with them. I could do no less when Lucy shows such greatness of spirit. With my Queen leading the way, I began to hate, a little less, and ultimately to forgive."

_Greatness of spirit._ Trying to expand her compassion as broadly as her daughter had done made Helen think she was not quite up to the task. "Lucy just _went_, among the enemy, to feed them and take care of them."

"In her view, they were not the enemy, but victims. Of course, those who had done wrong and committed crimes were turned over to the Just for judgment."

"The Just?"

"King Edmund."

_Of course it was. Those blasted law texts he's always lugging around. And the United States Supreme Court? _

_And perhaps there were other connections?  
_

"What you mentioned, at the end, about the Traitor Noll and the spies? What is that?"

"It is the traditional end to this story, and the beginning of another, even longer one, that has much tragedy. I probably should have omitted it."

"I apologize. I was curious if it involved Susan or Edmund." _Because if there were spies ..._

"It involves all of the Four, in different ways, but yes, it did, in some ways, affect King Edmund most."

She was intensely curious but this, like so many other inquiries, would have to wait. 

There was something else though. Something that potentially involved Lucy, different but similar. She tapped her finger on the arm of the divan.

"Helen?"

"I have an idea. Perhaps." There had been notices in the papers. Edith Pye had been agitating about food relief in occupied Greece and Belgium. Miss Pye had founded the Famine Relief Committee. And she'd read about one famine committee in Oxford that had recently registered as a charity. A clergyman from the University church there was involved as well. And Vera Brittain. They had been protesting the Greek blockade.

"Briony, if Narnia had been at war and your enemy had occupied another country, and Lucy knew there were people starving there, she would try to help them, wouldn't she? Even if it meant aiding the enemy?"

"Helping victims is not aiding the enemy."

The British government certainly did not agree with that given the blockade of Greece and the prohibitions on providing any aid to Occupied Europe. It was unpatriotic to even suggest such a thing and to do it was treasonous. Providing food to people in occupied countries was tantamount to rendering aid to the Nazis.

"What if it was an island and there was a naval blockade around it, and Lucy couldn't get to the starving people there, what would she do?"

"Sail out and burn the fleet."

Helen would have laughed but Briony was deadly serious.

"She would not declare war by herself, of course," Briony seemed to feel she needed to clarify. "The King Edmund naturally feels injustice as well. He might sail with her or the Queen Susan. But not the High King, of course."

"Because?"

"He really hates boats."

Helen did laugh at that. Briony was so earnest and she looked forward to exploring this with Peter, if she ever saw him again.

"If burning the fleet is not an option, what would Lucy do?"

"Fly by Gryphon over the fleet and drop on to the island herself."

Helen had visions of Lucy parachuting out of an aeroplane and could not wholly dismiss it after Briony's story. Perhaps this also explained Peter's commitment to the Glider Corps. "What if she could not fly?"

Briony shifted and looked thoughtful. "She would be very frustrated. She would probably send Queen Susan or King Edmund to try to negotiate with the blockade to stand down. Lucy was never especially…"

When Briony faltered, Helen offered, "Diplomacy is not Lucy's gift?"

The wolf wagged her tail. "Just so. But Lucy would not wait, either. She would try to find some way to get food there, if she could not reach them right away. She might try to smuggle ships through or have Gryphons fly over and drop game. That was what she did with the Forgotten Remnants, at first."

Helen had no way of knowing but this felt right. It seemed like something this bold, valiant young woman would do and who had, in fact, been caring for victims of war for a very long time.

"You think you know where she might have gone?"

"I know where to begin, Briony. Thank you. I could never had done it without you."

"You are welcome." She yawned and stretched. "I am glad you have a beginning but unfortunately this also means my ending. I will have to leave soon."

"Will we see you again? Lucy will be devastated that I saw you and she did not."

"I do not know. Lucy still hears me, some. I feel that when the need is great, Aslan understands and will see it done. But everyone would want to come. I am sure Banker Morgan will hit Aslan with a candlestick again when she hears of this."

Once again, there was too much information billowing out. "Aslan is the lion?"

"Lion," Briony repeated but it sounded different. "No one is better than Lucy to teach you of Aslan if you do not yet know Him well."

That "Him" had definitely been capitalized. And if Aslan had taken her children away from her, she'd hit him with more than a candlestick. Helen thought she probably would like Banker Morgan very much. And surely, Lucy's husband must be a remarkable man to have married the extraordinary woman her daughter had become.

"I would very much like to meet the others who were so important to my children, and who guarded them so well as you did, Briony. Thank you."

"Helen, I am not supposed to ask about another's story but can you tell me, for my mate's sake, what of Queen Susan? Lambert believes she has important things still to do here but he misses her very much."

"Susan is a hero, Briony, and she intends to serve her country and help us win the war. I don't know what she is doing or where because it is so secret but I believe as your mate does. There are important things yet for Susan to do."

By the time she finished the sentence, Helen was speaking to an empty room.

* * *

The alarm blared upstairs and Helen woke, again, with a start. It must be 6 o'clock. She was on the divan, in her clothes, with the lights on.

Surely it had all been a dream? A bizarre, inexplicable dream. She heaved herself up to get upstairs and turn off the alarm. And tripped over a sherry glass on the floor. There were long, gray coarse hairs all over the drawing room rug, in the dining room, and on her jumper.

"Thank you!" she shouted out to whoever might be listening and bolted upstairs to shut off the clock.

She was at the telegraph office when it opened. 

Confirming her conjecture, the first telegram from Professor Kirke came by the time she arrived at the Committee office.

_ Lucy here, safe. Arived last night. Send home or u come?_

He'd not had the benefit of her telegram when he sent his first, so Helen waited and, as expected, his second telegram arrived during the lunch hour when she was trying to get ahead on the dictation.

_Recvd. Expect u this aft._

The prospect of them both wondering how she had known Lucy's destination and been able to telegram Professor Kirke even before he had wired amused her for most of the train ride to Oxford.

It was a cold, wet and dreary mile walk to the Professor's cottage. Helen did wonder at every animal she saw – the dog behind a gate, a cat walking along a fence, a bird scratching in mud. Did they speak? She was worried that if she tried to talk to one, someone would hear her and send her to the hospital before she could see Lucy. She caught a glimpse of a familiar-looking, bushy marmalade tail but the cat (or Cat, as Briony would have said), disappeared around a corner.

The front gate of the cottage was a little askew, the garden very untidy, and the front door ajar.

The door swung open and Professor Kirke stood hunched over at the threshold, looking utterly mortified, with a speech all prepared. "Helen, I am so terribly sorry. Lucy is quite safe, and so sorry to give you such a fright. She arrived completely unexpectedly. I had no idea until...."

She put a hand on his patchy, tweed jacket. "Digory, _I understand_." She paused meaningfully. "_Thank you_ for being so good to my children during this _extraordinary experience."_

Yes, it would have been better if he had told her after it had happened but Helen realized that it hadn't wholly been his decision. They weren't children when they returned and, really, she would have thought him completely mad until she had begun to experience their marked changes for herself. His continued discounting of her concerns still rankled but, as Briony would have said, it also wasn't his story to tell.

The poor man was confounded. "I… Oh. I see… Uhmmm. So you, errr, _know_?" His voice dropped to a whisper.

"I do."

"Well, quite, yes, uhmmm, Lucy is in the parlor."

"I would love some tea, Professor. And something stronger if you have it."

"Mum?!"

There was the sound of pounding feet and Lucy flew into the front hall. She looked tired and dirty and was still wearing her school uniform. No shoes.

Helen felt as if she was really seeing Lucy for the first time, since the Blitz, her evacuation, and the beginning of an adventure that had not yet ended.

"Hello, darling."

Lucy stepped forward, frowning, plainly expecting a furious scolding and somehow looking contrite, defiant, and proud of her accomplishment at the same time.

"Mum, I can explain. I…"

Helen held up her hand, palm out. "Lucy…"

"I had to, I couldn't…"

"Lucy! Stop interrupting me when you have no idea what I am about to say."

Her daughter finally closed her mouth. It was taking a lot of effort for her to not rattle off what was probably her own prepared speech. Helen had one of her own.

"I assume that you came to Oxford to attend the meeting of the Oxford Committee for Famine Relief where a representative from the Greek Red Cross was scheduled to speak about how to get food aid through the blockade."

Lucy nodded. "But how did you know? The Professor said you wired even before he did."

"I had help. Last night, I was visited by a very dear friend of yours."

"But…"

Helen again raised her hand. "Let me finish. Your friend also told me that you learned from a horse that it is better to ask for forgiveness than it is to ask for permission. And, sometimes, it seems, you do neither." 

She gasped and her eyes widened in incredulous shock.

"She also told me a story, Black, White, and the Gray Wolf In Between and how Queen Lucy the Valiant became the Protector of the Witch's Forgotten Remnant."

"I don't believe I've heard that one," the Professor murmured.

"It explains a great deal, Professor. I admit I should like to hear it again."

Now Lucy's mouth was hanging open. "But, but…"

Helen made a point of brushing off her coat. "I don't suppose you know a trick for helping your poor mum get all that gray wolf hair out of the carpets?"

"Briony?" It was a whisper that hitched into a strangled gasp.

Helen nodded. "And I understand very much why you loved her so well and with her help I see why you felt you had to come here."

Lucy ran forward, threw her arms around her, and burst into tears.

Helen drew her close, stroking her back, soothing her wildly mussed hair. She would never experience, as Briony had, those years of Lucy's youth. Her little girl was gone. But she would have, as Briony had not, many years ahead with a remarkable woman.

Professor Kirke shuffled toward his kitchen. "I'd best see to that tea. And perhaps that bottle of Laphroaig."

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Hound and Nag](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20728931) by [rthstewart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rthstewart/pseuds/rthstewart)


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